3 squared
by scntlla
Summary: The Three House Leaders, and the games they play.
1. green

Claude is charismatic, it goes without saying. He never misses out on the opportunity to be surrounded by people, and Dimitri knows this to be true. He passes by the Golden Deer house leader quite often, to the point where the monastery feels much smaller than it is. Whether he sees him at the classrooms of the Officers Academy, on the bridge connecting the main campus to the cathedral—or even in the dining hall, where all focus is lost as Raphael and Caspar eat their whole weight in food—the two of them always find a way of meeting each other.

That includes the battlefield, but surprisingly enough, it's not the place where Dimitri likes seeing Claude the most. He prefers the library, the knights' hall—though seldom are the Golden Deer students seen in such a regal place in the first place—or even the dorms. Those walkways seem like crossroads, and Claude, ever observant and always smiling, heralds the separation.

"Your Highness," he greets calmly. "You're up late, as usual."

Dimitri doesn't mention how Claude himself is often crowded by his fellow students, naturally capturing all of their attention, and seamlessly listening to every word they say, despite most of it being idle chatter.

Claude also keeps quiet about how Dimitri's classmates treat him with a sense of _awe, _those who aren't close to him revering him silently from afar, and those who _are _close to him manage to maintain their distance, anyway.

Dimitri nods. "It would appear so. If you don't mind me asking, Claude, then perhaps you'd like to join me for tea? I find that it helps the hard-working and weary-minded, especially late at night."

Claude smiles, and for once, Dimitri feels as if he can see the world in his eyes. "You know what? I'd love to."


	2. purple

"Rumor has it that you're in love with me."

Dimitri nearly drops his stack of books, sending strategic guides and history volumes in disarray. He manages to save himself from total humiliation, but his hands are shaking too much to go unnoticed. "A-And whoever started such preposterous _gossip_, in the first place?"

Edelgard smiles. She is not immune from provocation, herself, but seems nearly infallible as she calmly leafs through her own book—a beginner's tome to black magic—without incident. "I'm not quite sure myself. Silly, isn't it? That people would have time to entertain such fantasies when they can be doing anything else instead."

"Right you are. They could be training, studying, preparing themselves for a fight."

"Or writing letters, fishing, going to the marketplace, stable upkeep…"

"Yes, there are lots of things to occupy oneself with. Hardly seems befitting of any student, regardless of blood or circumstance, to spread falsities such as—"

"Perhaps we ought to spread some rumors of our own."

Dimitri drops the books this time. Edelgard looks up from her tome, and her curious gaze is worse than a deadly glare. "You can't be serious, Edelgard!"

"It's a perfectly good idea," she insists. "Not that I encourage giving attention to childish displays, but that it would be nice to..._turn the tables,_ once in a while."

"You're starting to sound like Claude," Dimitri scoffs. "Has he spoken with you recently?"

"Maybe he's the one that started the rumors," Edelgard offers. "How about we start one about him? Better yet, we say that you _are _in love with me, and that somehow, I fully reciprocate your feelings. That would give them something to talk about."

"We wouldn't hear the end of it until graduation. Until we _die,_" Dimitri groans. "Please don't."

She laughs. "I'll think about it."


	3. orange

Edelgard and Claude, for all their differences, also have unique similarities. They aren't afraid of what some may call "underhanded techniques," as long as they have their victory at the end of the day. Of course, what they decide is fair or not differs greatly, but Edelgard doesn't mind his calculative nature. She understands relationships well enough to know they are of give and take, and finding the right balance between the two.

For example, she gave up one of two precious knights, only to take Claude's rook in the process. A sacrifice on both of their ends, but in Edelgard's mind, she is all the better for it. There is no telling what Claude thinks, though, as he folds his hands and rests on them, obscuring his face and admiring the board from his angle.

She sighs. "You are aware that I'm one move away from crushing you, yes?"

"Don't worry, I haven't fallen asleep somehow, even though you take an eternity just to move one piece."

She tries not to bristle at his words but fails. "Well, your fast-paced decisions have brought you nothing but defeat. I have half of your pieces, Claude."

"Sometimes a half is necessary to move a whole. Don't count me out yet." His voice is cool, taciturn, yet completely offset by his wide smile. "Like this move right here. Check."

_What? _"...I see. In that case, I'll have to retaliate."

"Please do."

"My turn. Check."

"Check."

Edelgard resists the urge to sigh. "Check."

Claude's smile never falters once. "Check_mate._"

Edelgard understands loss as she does victory: bittersweet, but necessary.

"Thank you for the match," she says civilly. "But I won't lose next time."

He doesn't take offense or goad her further, much to her surprise. Still smiling, he says, "I know you won't."


End file.
